SUQUAMISH — A half dozen young people, dressed in traditional tribal regalia, or ceremonial dress, sing the traditional Suquamish welcoming song, accompanied by the steady beat of the drum.

In the distance a canoe appears, at first a small dot on the horizon, which grows as it steadily approaches the shore.

Above the performers, on the bluff overlooking the water, a crowd of all ages has assembled to watch as the canoes arrive.

As they approach the melodic notes of their own tribal song, emanating from the canoe, begin to reach the shore. The nine paddlers, called pullers, in the cedar canoe bring the craft around in a circle, stop in front of the dock and begin to pound the end of their paddles in the bottom of the canoe.

Suddenly, the singing stops and a man within the canoe speaks.

“We are traveling in our canoe Chi’?Swit,” he shouts. “I humbly ask permission to come ashore to tell good stories, eat good food and share good laughs.”

Facing him from the cement dock Suquamish tribal elder Francie Jackson raises her arms and accepts the canoe family. Cheers erupt on land.

About a dozen more canoe families went through the same traditional procedure to come ashore in Suquamish on Friday as part of the annual Tribal Canoe Journeys.

The idea behind the celebration, which was first conceived in 1989 for Washington State’s Centennial and dubbed “Paddle to Seattle,” is to bring tribes from around the Pacific Northwest together to paddle traditional cedar oceangoing dugout canoes from their coastal villages to the Port of Seattle.

In 1993, Canoe Journeys became an annual event and broadened out geographically to include paddlers from Canada and Alaska. Each year a different tribes offers to host the weeklong celebration while other tribes serve as quicker stops along the way.

Suquamish tribal member Kate Ahvakana is dressed to the nines in tribal regalia. She dons a cedar hat she wove herself, a body-length necklace of dentalium shells, used for money many years ago, and striking blue beads and a skirt she made out of a wool, another traditional material.

Standing on the dock next to Jackson, she is one of the welcoming committee. She said Canoe Journeys have been part of her life for more than 20 years.

“Even if we’re not on it that doesn’t mean we’re not involved,” she said. “Everybody’s on the journey. You have support at home, you have the government running and planning things. It’s a community effort.”

Ahvakana said she did her first paddle when she was a teenager and it was an enlightening experience.

Pointing to the water she said, “You realize when you’re out there that you’re exactly where your ancestors used to be, doing the same thing. There’s that connection with the teachings and the culture and you see that it’s still living.”

This year the stop at Suquamish was fairly early in the journey, which will culminate in Quinault August 1-7. A little more than a dozen canoes came ashore in Suquamish, but tribal communications coordinator April Leigh was quick to point out, “that doesn’t mean it’s any less important.”

This year Suquamish has five canoes — two tribal and three family — that are making the journey. But behind every canoe there is a dedicated ground crew traveling by land to each stop, setting up camp, preparing meals and helping keep gear in good shape.

Rob Purser, fisheries director and a head skipper, said one of the incredible things about the Tribal Canoe Journey is that it’s inclusive of all ages. He said he has one skipper, or navigator of the canoe, who will turn 80 during this year’s journey, and youth as young as 5 participating as pullers.

“For youth, for anyone pulling really, there are lessons you learn traveling on the water like our ancestors did,” he said. “They had to depend on one another and you learn that out there.”

Tribal chairman Leonard Forsman agreed. He has been a puller since 2004 and said when you’re out on the water you become attuned to your friends and family pulling beside you and the ancestral history around you.

“It really brings the community together and the intertribal communities together,” he said. “We can share culture, memories from years past and we have a common goal to work toward — pulling our canoe to the next stop.”

Back on the dock, the crew of the colorful Chip Swit, adorned in elaborate red, blue and yellow tribal decorations, call for help to bring the canoe ashore.

Volunteers rush down to the water including Seattle resident Josie Presley who was visiting the festivities with a contingent from the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation and didn’t seem phased by submerging herself halfway in the chilly water.

“This is a really interesting opportunity to see the way we’re able to hold on to old traditions and keep them alive in our society,” she said. “It’s amazing the community is welcome to participate.”

And in the spirit of tradition, Leigh said the audience got to witness one of the most important tribal traditions during the canoe welcoming ceremony — “If you call a canoe a boat you have to jump into the water.”